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Boggy Creek Cemetery is known as Mt.
Carmel/East Lake Cemetery. Its supposedly a private cemetery on a public
road no signs posted however the owner Clara Hansen claims her family owns
these burial grounds. She was not pleased that we visited the cemetery
which is very sad cause that is why gravestones are placed is so we can
remember those who had fallen.
As the editor did explain to her their
is no signs stating this what is the point of a cemetery if you cannot
visit it ghostly or nonghostly related?
Since the cemeteries name has changed
hands a few times we have to assume its had previous owners. Of course it
would have to since there are just a few stones dating back to the later
1800s.
The name suits a Halloween investigation
well and despite the eeriness to this place the low flying planes takes
away a bit from the investigation. Its not a very well maintained cemetery
lots of fallen trees, cactuses growing, thorn brush, high dead grass etc
below is my newspaper article from this investigation.
I have a friend whose husband is buried
here and was told that there is a couple civil war soldiers here not sure
though. I do know that some of the earliest settlers to the Boggy Creek
area are buried within. It also seems like many burials here are unmarked.
©
By
AngelOfThyNight-Rick
In search of a Haunting
The
Paranormal and Ghost Society leader guides a reporter on a late-night
hunt.
Elaine Aradillas | Sentinel Staff Writer
Posted November 1, 2006
It had all the makings of a horror flick: two young women, alone in a car
late at night on an unpaved road in the middle of nowhere, lighted by an
orange-hued crescent moon hanging low on the horizon. Oh, and we were
meeting two strangers at a cemetery.
I don't know what I was thinking when I agreed to tag along with
paranormal investigator Rick Rowe, who planned to visit old Osceola County
cemeteries and a Kissimmee haunt known for its legend of a "headless
horseman."
Rowe heads up the Paranormal and Ghost Society, a group he started about
five years ago when he was living in Buffalo, N.Y. Unlike the rest of us
who feared the bogeyman underneath our bed, Rowe said he saw him walk into
his closet when he was a child.
"The more you see, the more you want to do," Rowe said Saturday
night. "For me, this is an adventure."
I coerced a fellow journalist to come along just in case things got too
weird.
Call me paranoid, but I couldn't help wearing a cross around my neck. My
friend carried one in her pocket, too. Just in case.
It took 30 minutes to find the isolated spot, south of Orlando
International Airport. We parked on the side of the road and waited for
our guide. Truth be told, waiting was the scariest part of the evening.
"How is it that the idea of embedding myself and reporting from the
front lines of Iraq doesn't scare me, but sitting outside a cemetery has
me freaked out?" I asked.
Logical explanations began calming us down, right about the same time Rowe
and another investigator named Jason Wolfe rolled up in a black sport
utility vehicle about 11 p.m.
We followed Rowe and Wolfe down an unpaved path to the East Lake Cemetery,
formerly known as Boggy Creek and Mount Carmel cemeteries.
St. Cloud historian Bob Fisk said it is a family-owned cemetery.
Confederate and World War I veterans are buried there.
"It goes back into the 1800s, but there's some recent burials,"
he said. "There's still some room there."
Our guides were thorough. No headstone went unturned, so to speak. Rowe
took photos of everything -- markers, trees, the ground. What looked like
empty space turned into smoky images on his digital camera screen.
"Do you see the face?" he asked.
I did, and that was enough for me.
"There's someone standing next to us," Rowe said moments later.
All I could see was the silhouette of a moss-covered tree.
I felt as if I shouldn't have been there, stirring up spirits or whatever
was trying to rest in peace.
I respect people, even if they're dead. My friend and I decided to leave,
though the investigators were just getting started. They traipsed through
about a half-dozen cemeteries and even hiked through brush to check out
the so-called Dead Man's Oak, near Shingle Creek, where the legend of a
headless horseman arose hundreds of years ago after a Spaniard was
beheaded for stealing some bread.
"We got a lot of different ghost activity," Rowe said of his
all-night excursion.
Rowe said he wants to debunk myths and legends by uncovering the mysteries
for himself. But the more he investigates, he says, the more he believes.
"There is a certain rush we get," he said. "When something
really happens, it's amazing."
Elaine Aradillas can be reached at earadillas@orlandosentinel.com or
407-931-5940. www.paranormalghostsociety.org
http://www.orlandosentinel.com/community/news/millenia/orl-locghosthunt0106nov01,0,277483.story
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